


Friends Like These

by temporalDecay



Series: Friends Like These [1]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Bulges and Nooks, F/M, M/M, Size Difference, Size Kink, Tentabulges, Underage Sex, unexpected adult molt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-27
Updated: 2013-06-27
Packaged: 2017-12-16 08:44:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,634
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/860194
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/temporalDecay/pseuds/temporalDecay
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Non-SGRUB AU. In which Karkat goes into adult molt without warning while visiting Eridan, in the process revealing his status as a mutant. Eridan then proceeds to freak the fuck out, get himself a moirail, freak the fuck out some more, and try to salvage their friendship  - which is totally not a matespritship, really, despite the amazing sex, honest - while avoiding uncomfortable realizations about mortality and other such grim things.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Friends Like These

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Lizardlicks](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lizardlicks/gifts).



> This was supposed to be just porn to spite the Eridan Hate Anon suddenly harassing Lizard, but it somehow grew a plot. I don't even know.

You go through the motions of convincing your temperamental caffeinated beverage dispenser to actually work, carefully avoiding any thought more complicated than “ah, yes, let’s press this button now” until you have a mug full of the stuff and you’re browsing the cabinets of your food preparation block for some damn sugar to put on it. Then your eyes land on Vriska’s gift to you for your wiggling day two sweeps ago: a bottle of what you’re pretty sure is moonshine poorly manufactured in her bathtub, just because she could. You stare at the booze of dubious origin for a long moment before reaching out and dumping a good shot of it into the mug. You knock back half the mug in one shot, then proceed to throw up in the cleansing basin, heaving until you feel your body might actually split in half. After washing away all the puke, you serve yourself another mug, this time with just sugar and cream added for flavor, and slump in a stool to think about the disaster that is your life. 

This wasn’t how you envisioned things going, when you finally convinced Karkat to visit your hive, after entire perigees of negotiating. You lured him with promises of endless romcoms and the juiciest gossip about your shared highblood acquaintances, and you intended to deliver, for once. Get Karkat happy and complacent and then maybe breach the subject of romance in a super subtle and not at all desperate way, until you cunningly coaxed him into offering you advice with your latest pale entanglement. You had it all carefully planned out, too. You rehearsed answers to all the possible questions or misunderstandings, until you were certain you were going to secure yourself the council of the greatest expert in pale relationships you know, because you’re finally, _finally_ moving on after the Feferi fiasco and maybe this one girl might be The One. All you wanted was to get Karkat past his stupid ban on any discussion of personal problems in your gossip sessions and convince him to give you a chance, that it’d be in everyone’s best interests if this works out. 

Instead, after two nights of sappy movies and friendly snarking, Karkat had abruptly passed out with his face inside a bowl of grubcorn – seventh one he’d eaten in a row – and started oozing out a sticky goop that slowly spread onto anything within a four foot radius of him, signaling his adult molt. A sticky cherry red goop that can’t possibly be the color of his blood because that’d make him a mutant and of course your best friend isn’t a fucking mutant, you’d be morally obligated to cull him on the spot if he were and that’d be just… 

You put down your mug and go dig out Vriska’s moonshine again because you can’t continue that line of thought sober. 

Twenty minutes later you’re done puking up your insides again, and you decide that you might as well continue that line of thought now that you probably look as miserable as you feel. You end up heading upstairs, to the entertainment block you practically had furnished solely for the purpose of luring Karkat into meeting with you in person. He’s where you left him, alright, except now the goop has expanded into a large structure that almost looks like it’s made of cobwebs and that will slowly harden into a cocoon from which he’ll emerge in a few nights, fully grown as an adult. Even if whole thing _weren’t_ bright cherry red, you’d still be freaking out because it’s at least a sweep too early for Karkat to be going through this. He couldn’t have known this was going to happen, either, no troll would risk going through their adult molt outside the safety of their own hive, guarded by their lusus. It’s a moment of great vulnerability, where any number of things could go wrong if the cocoon is disrupted. 

You could cull him so easily right now, and no one would even know. 

You back away from the block, closing the door and heading to your own respiteblock, resisting the urge to puke for the third time in an hour. You slump in your chair, pressing your face in your hands and trying to force your pan to think straight. But you see that red, when you close your eyes, and a snide voice in a corner of your skull reminds you that every moment delay doing your civic duty, you become more and more complicit to a crime that not even your highblood status would forgive. 

Finally, you allow yourself to panic like a pro. 

  


* * *

  


caligulasAquarium [CA] began trolling immiscibleAeon [IA]

CA: ag?  
IA: oh, hi eridan.  
CA: this is totally wweird an stupid an inappropriate but  
CA: can wwe talk?  
CA: just for a lil bit?  
IA: wow, that wazn't in any way ominouz or anything.  
IA: but zure, what'z eating you up?  
CA: eatin me?  
CA: haha a course nothin is eatin me  
CA: im just fine just  
CA: you knoww, wwanted to chat wwith a friend  
CA: cause wwere friends right  
CA: an thats wwhat friends do, they chat  
CA: about this or that  
CA: nothin in particular  
IA: ...okay?  
IA: what'z nothing in particular that you want to talk about?  
CA: so  
CA: lets say i havve a friend  
IA: right.  
CA: really good friend, him  
CA: best friend you could evver hope for  
IA: but?  
CA: hes got... a condition  
IA: what kind of condition?  
CA: just a condition!  
CA: one he could... get in trouble for, if the wwrong people kneww about it  
CA: maybe evven get him culled  
IA: zoundz like the kind of condition you zhouln't be dizcuzzing with zomeone elze, then.  
CA: i knoww, i just didnt knoww wwho else to tell  
IA: are you trying to tell me you came to me firzt?  
CA: yeah  
IA: oh.  
IA: that'z.  
CA: im sorry, im sorry, im ovversteppin boundaries or some shit  
CA: ill go awway noww  
IA: what, no.  
IA: wait.  
IA: i waz gonna zay that'z... really flattering.  
CA: it is?  
IA: well, me being... well.  
CA: theres nothin wwrong wwith bein you, ag  
IA: zee? there you go again.  
IA: if i didn't know better, i'd say you're putting the pale moves on me.  
CA: ...maybe i am  
IA: oh god.  
IA: you are.  
IA: what.  
CA: yeah that wwas totally not howw i wwanted to tell you  
CA: youre gonna block me noww  
CA: arent you  
CA: an wwere nevver gonna speak evver again  
IA: eridan, zhut the fuck up and let me hyperventilate in peaze.  
CA: oh

immiscibleAeon [IA] is now an idle troll!

immiscibleAeon [IA] is now no longer idle!

IA: woo.  
IA: okay.  
IA: that happened.  
CA: ag?  
CA: are you okay?  
IA: me?  
IA: peachy.  
IA: juzt went and knitted a zcarf, you know.  
IA: to clear my head, becauze thiz guy i juzt met like, half a zweep ago iz now inviting me onto hiz pile and zhit.  
CA: i dont actually havve a pile  
IA: now that'z juzt rude, i have to put in the pile too?  
CA: uh  
IA: thiz moirallegianze ain't gonna have a long future if you pile all the rezponzibilitiez on me.  
CA: did you just make a pile pun  
IA: i mean, you've met me.  
IA: i'm a dizazter.  
IA: thiz izn't gonna work if you don't do your part.  
CA: wwait  
CA: oh  
IA: you're doing the owlizh blinking thing, aren't you?  
IA: and i'm mizzing it, damn.  
CA: wwoww  
IA: do you need a moment?  
IA: becauze i could totally knit a hat and zome mittenz to go with thiz zcarf while you get your zhit together.  
CA: yeah i  
CA: im gonna go marvvel at the fact i didnt actually get rejected for a bit  
CA: brb  
IA: zilly boy.

caligulasAquarium [CA] is now an idle troll!

caligulasAquarium [CA] is now no longer idle!

CA: ok  
IA: wb.  
CA: thank you  
IA: zo.  
IA: uh.  
IA: do you wanna talk about your friend now?  
IA: like.  
IA: offizial firzt moirail chat?  
CA: oh god yes  
CA: please  
IA: right, what'z wrong with your friend then?  
CA: i just found out my best friend is a cull wworthy mutant cause hes in a cocoon in the block next door goin through his adult molt  
IA: ...welp.  
CA: help  
IA: okay.  
IA: gonna azzume you don't wwant the guy dead, cauze then thiz converzation wouldn't be happening at all.  
CA: oh my god  
CA: a course i dont wwant him dead  
CA: hes my best friend  
IA: right.  
IA: the firzt thing you need to do though, iz get out of there.  
IA: like, yezterday.  
CA: wwhat wwhy  
IA: you zaid he waz molting, right?  
CA: yeah  
IA: he'z probably molting early becauze of the whole mutant thing.  
IA: what are you zuppozed to do after your adult molt, eridan?  
CA: you prepare for when the  
CA: oh  
IA: exactly.  
IA: you want to get out of there az zoon az pozzible, before you find yourzelf in the zame block az a confuzed, volatile and hormone crazy adult.  
CA: but its kar  
CA: hed nevver hurt me  
CA: i dont think he can, anywway  
CA: hes the cutest little niblet  
IA: no.  
IA: eridan.  
IA: prinzezz.  
IA: lizten to me.  
IA: he'll be an adult.  
IA: you're not an adult.  
IA: you'll be lucky to get out of it alive if he getz hiz handz on you right after he wakez up.  
IA: juzt.  
IA: find zomewhere elze to stay.  
IA: fuck.  
IA: come ztay with me.  
IA: adult moltz are zcary and confuzing even when you're prepared for them.  
IA: and you're making it zound like it juzt caught him by zurprize.  
IA: you need to wait until he'z back to hiz zenzez and you know, not crazy.  
IA: becauze he'z not your friend if he'z out of hiz mind.  
CA: but i dont wwant to leavve him alone  
CA: i feel like a shitty friend just lettin him deal wwith this shit on his owwn  
IA: becauze he'll appreciate it more if you ztick around so he can rape you or zomething.  
CA: kar wwould nevver do somethin like that  
IA: fair enough.  
IA: but right after the molt he won't be your friend.  
IA: juzt the dangerouz hormone cocktail inhabiting your friend'z body while he getz hiz bearingz.  
CA: but  
IA: c'mon.  
IA: you know it'z the right thing to do.  
CA: i hate it wwhen you make sense  
IA: no, you don't.  
IA: you get all zhivery with palenezz over it.  
CA: oh shut up  
IA: it'z okay, no one'z judging you for wanting zome of thiz zhoozhing.  
CA: ...is it really gonna be okay?  
CA: leavvin him here on his owwn?  
IA: are you at your hive or hiz?  
CA: mine  
IA: iz he a zeadweller like you?  
CA: no?  
IA: then he'z not going anywhere.  
IA: now get your azz out of there.  
CA: right  
CA: okay  
CA: fine  
CA: your place, then?  
IA: well, if you want to.  
IA: i mean, i juzt want you out of there az zoon az pozzible.  
IA: you could go ztay with a friend or zomething if you don't want to come here.  
CA: nah, its okay  
CA: ill be there in a feww hours  
IA: you sure?  
CA: yeah  
CA: just lemme grab some stuff an ill be on my wway  
CA: promise  
IA: okay.  
IA: good.  
IA: becauze if you get yourzelf culled i will murder you with my own handz.  
CA: uh  
IA: ...<>  
CA: <>!

immiscibleAeon [IA] ceased trolling caligulasAquarium [CA]

  


* * *

  


Your lusus makes a quiet, nervous sound as it floats high above your hive, seemingly reacting to your own nerves. You pat his side gently, as if to soothe his concerns, and dismount with the ease of practice, leaping into the sand with a soft grunt. The moons are pale in the sky and the only sound around is the constant, rhythmic echo of the waves. You take a deep breath, swallow hard, and stalk towards the front door, bracing yourself for whatever it is you’ll face inside. 

“Kar?” You resist the urge to pull Ahab’s from your sylladex, purely because that’d give the worst impression and you already know this must look terrible from Karkat’s perspective. Instead, you slowly inch your way further inside. “Kar, are you there?” 

You see a shadow moving in the corner of your eye. 

“Eridan?” 

You startle and shriek like a wiggler, throwing the nearest thing at hand – a vase – at the source of the sound, which you only recognize as Karkat half a second after the vase hits, smashing into pieces on his head. 

“Oh fuck.” 

Karkat goes down like a lead balloon. 

“Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck.” 

Agness is going to _murder_ you. 

You take a moment to just stare at the troll crumpled on the floor, unconscious. You were expecting him to grow, sure, but you weren’t expecting him to grow this much. He’s _massive_. At least two whole feet taller than you and with shoulders twice as wide as yours. His skin is the darkened, shiny hue of an adult, making the yellow of his claws stand up even more. You swallow hard, approaching him carefully, and then wincing at the bits of vase stuck in his hair. At least he’s not bleeding. You pluck the shards with a gentle hand, then decide to try and drag him off onto a chair. 

Try being the operative word, he’s a lot heavier than you were expecting. It takes you a moment to recover from the first attempt, before you manage to move him somewhat awkwardly. You concentrate on getting him off the floor and studiously ignore the fact he smells really nice or the fact he’s blissfully naked. Thankfully, after nearly a week in her place, you have no trouble imagining Agness berating you for being stupid, and focus on that and not on anything untoward. Even if your mind really wants to go there, because wow. Really, _wow_. Karkat was always sort of attractive in his own foulmouthed, perpetually cranky way, and after meeting him in person you decided he was cute in a weird nubbyhorned way, but this is something else, entirely. 

You watch him, propped on the chair bonelessly, and think, yet again, that you could probably cull him right now and no one would even know. 

Instead, you go about making some food, if nothing else, to give your hands something productive to do. 

  


* * *

  


To your extreme relief, Karkat is indeed Karkat, when he wakes up from his unexpected… er, nap. He forgives you for the outburst mostly because you put a plate of food right in front of him before he can really get angry about it. He’s a bit too quiet, compared to what you’re used to, but he doesn’t seem to be mad about you leaving him to molt on his own. If anything, he seems almost relieved, when you breach the topic. 

“It was my moirail’s idea,” you say, absently playing with the last few bites of food in your place. 

“You have a moirail?” Karkat sounds almost disbelieving. 

You scoff. 

“Yes,” you roll your eyes. “Anyway, she said it’d be for the best to… you know, leave you alone and wait til you came to your senses. We figured you’d be safe here, since… yeah. Middle of nowhere and all.” 

“Right,” he says, head tilted slightly to the side. “I was… in a mood, when I woke up.” 

For some reason, the way he says it makes you shiver slightly. 

“You’re okay now, though,” you offer him a thin smile, “right?” 

“Right,” Karkat shrugs, a little uncomfortable, but you’re more than a little mesmerized by the shift of muscle under his skin. 

The silence stretches again, awkward. You poke at your food some more, not really hungry anymore, but not really sure what else you could say. You’re also trying really hard not to be distracted by the way his eyes are all filled in with the same bright red his cocoon was. You’re still not really sure how to go about talking about it, but he must know that you know, and you know he must know that you know. 

“Just,” Karkat says suddenly, pushing his plate away and sitting up straight, but mercifully you’re not startled this time, “if you’re going to do it, just fucking _do_ it.” 

You blink a few times, staring at him in confusion. 

“Do what?” 

He growls at you, standing up abruptly. Suddenly he’s very much an adult and you’re just a stupid kid pretending otherwise, despite the fact you’re technically older than he is. He’s just… he’s _impressive_ and you don’t know how to feel except utterly inadequate. 

“Cull me!” 

He’s also being monumentally stupid. You stare for a few moments before managing to close up your slack jaw. 

“Kar, no one’s going to cull you,” you say, in your calmest voice, which is a fucking miracle when everything is so weird and awkward already. “Just… if I wanted to cull you, I’d have done it while you were in the middle of your molt. Or when you were unconscious. Sorry again about that, by the way. I just… I wish you’d fucking _told_ me.” 

“Oh, yes,” he snarls, “because you’d have taken it so well. Hey, Eridan, guess what, I’m a disgusting mutated monstrosity that any sane troll would cull on sight.” 

You arch an eyebrow at him. 

“Seriously? Thanks for implying I’m crazy for not fuckin’ murderin’ my best friend.” He looks taken aback by that. You proceed to lose your shit at him. “Oh, come the fuck on, really? We’ve been friends for what, five sweeps now? You put up with me after I broke up with Feferi and was a disgusting mess of stupid. I mean, yeah, you’re a hideously mutated monstrosity, but _you’re my friend_.” 

Karkat snorts, but it’s deeper than it used to be. 

“You have such a way with words, Ampora,” he rolls his eyes at you. “I’m fucking touched.” 

“Well good,” you snap, feeling eminently stupid, “now finish your fucking lunch.” 

Reluctantly, he sits down. You let out a slow breath, trying to calm down. Karkat takes maybe three mouthfuls before he lowers his fork, and you inwardly brace as he looks at you. 

“…what now, though?” 

You go back to pushing your food awkwardly on your plate. 

“I don’t know, we’ll… figure out something,” you finish lamely, because you’re nine sweeps old and decidedly not cut to handle any of this. 

“Eridan…” 

“We’ll figure out _something_. Just. Not now.” You twirl the fork in your fingers, fidgety. “Just… let’s just fucking finish lunch and maybe see if we can salvage my poor recreational block. Then we’ll watch a few goddamn movies and… and go on with the visit as we’d originally planned or some shit.” 

“You know, in case you haven’t noticed, this,” Karkat motions to himself, looking exasperated, “is not going to go away if you ignore it hard enough.” 

“I know that, okay, fuck off,” you run a hand through your hair. “I’m just trying not to flip my shit because you’re fucking terrifying.” 

Karkat looks genuinely surprised by the statement, and you ignore the way you can feel your face flushing in embarrassment. The truth of the matter is that he _is_. So maybe his horns are still nothing remarkable and his teeth look mostly blunt, but he’s fucking huge and a baser part of your pan is wired to remind you near constantly that he’s a fucking full grown adult and you’re _not_. He’s not even dressed, but you can just imagine him, wearing the uniform and making idiots shit themselves in his presence. Except that’s never really gonna happen, is it? Because no one could look at his eyes and not realize what’s wrong with him. And you’ve been trying so hard to not think about it, but the truth is that he’s the last honest good friend you have and he’s going to die at some point in the near future. 

“Well, you are,” you mutter a little embarrassedly, pointedly looking away. “Should probably get you some clothes or something too, while we’re at it.” 

Karkat splutters at that, apparently just noticing his current state of undress, and you’re the shittiest friend, because that makes you feel better about the whole thing. 

  


* * *

  


“You didn’t have to, you know,” you say, cautiously, as you walk around the couch that Karkat’s cocoon swallowed up during his molt, “clean up everything.” 

“Yes, I damn well _had_ to clean up everything,” Karkat rolls his eyes at you, coming forward to slump in the same corner of the couch he claimed the night he first arrived. “If you fucking started molting on my goddamn couch without warning, not that I have a fucking couch, anyway, but if I did and you son of regurgitated hoofbeast shit molted on it, I would fucking expect you to clean that shit up. And by expect you to, I mean I would shove my sickles so far up your nook the tips poked out of your mouth, if you didn’t.” 

“Right,” you say, and find yourself raising your hands in surrender without really meaning to, because his sheer size keeps making his usual threats actually _threatening_ and part of you is seriously expecting him to try and bite your head off or something. “Dully noted. The good news is that I have no intention of molting on your couch. With or without warning. Honest.” 

You take an extra second to gather courage and then go sit on the opposite corner of the couch. The whole thing is oddly reminiscent of the first night Karkat spent in your hive, except now he’s big and intimidating, even though he’s naked except for a really makeshift skirt made from one of your old FLARP capes, and the stupid thing is that he still manages to make it look good somehow. It’s kind of disconcerting, how much you can’t help but nothing that Karkat looks good. You noticed when you first met him in person, sure, but while he was a cute little niblet then, now he’s… 

Well. 

_Hot_ . 

“So,” you say, slightly off pitch in your hurry to get the word out, because his expression is darkening and you will fucking procrastinate the giant disastrous conversation you have long due, for as long as you can. “What’s it like?” 

“What?” Karkat snorts. “Being a hideously mutated monstrosity?” 

You kick his thigh, which in the process makes you realize how fucking small your feet look next to it, holy shit, and snort acidly. 

“No, dumbass,” you roll your eyes. “ _Being an adult_.” 

“Oh.” Karkat blinks, shifting in place and apparently utterly oblivious to the fact you just kicked him. “Uh. Not really all that exciting.” He looks down at the claws of his left hand and then turns his arm a little, as if studying his own skin, which is still glossy dark grey and absolutely fucking flawless. “Mostly I’m just fucking horny all the time.” 

You were not expecting to hear him say that, though you supposed that would be the case. Adults are supposed to be ready to receive the drones a perigee after they molt, and you’ve read about the increase in libido during the first weeks after a molt. You just never in a million sweeps expected Karkat fucking Vantas to tell you about it, while he experiences it first-hand. 

“Holy fuck, that was an unprecedented level of TMI, I guess my fucking pan-to-flap filters got lost somewhere along the transition too, shit.” 

You force yourself to laugh, though it sounds awkward and stilted even to your own ears. 

“’s okay,” you say, shrugging lightly, “we’ve done worse.” You regret the comment immediately, because Karkat flinches and flushes, and you know exactly what he’s thinking about. “I mean—“ 

“Shut up, Eridan,” Karkat snaps, crossing his legs uncomfortably and purposely looking anywhere but you. 

“…we were six, _everyone_ was doing that when they were six.” 

“Shut _up_ , Eridan!” 

“Seriously—“ 

You get a cushion to the face for your troubles, and find yourself laughing even as Karkat does a decent enough job trying to smother you. You kick up a fuss, mostly just to be a brat and because Karkat is grinning like he wants to laugh and isn’t sure if he should. You’re strong, seadweller strong, but he’s an _adult_ , and it takes him a ludicrously short time to pin you down. Something in the back of your mind twitches, because you can’t emphasize how fucking _big_ he is, and how much you apparently like it when he makes you feel small. You’re pretty sure he’s enjoying himself, though, at least until he stops and pulls away abruptly. 

“Kar?” You don’t sit up just yet, just raising yourself on your elbows as he sits himself as far away from you as possible without leaving the couch entirely. 

“I think you need to leave. Or I need to leave. Or the fucking world can leave.” His voice is… odd, you can’t quite pin down why, except it’s different from before, and he looks upset somehow. “Fuck.” 

You don’t understand why, really. Roughhousing and mock fighting are a perfectly reasonable and acceptable practice among friends. You’ve read about it, mostly because you’ve never really have friends who lived even remotely close enough to try it with. But then it occurs to you that it’s a _juvenile_ thing, and Karkat is an adult now so maybe he’s not cool with that shit anymore. You probably just fucked up again, since that seems to be a thing you have a staggering proficiency at. 

“Is—“ 

“Remember the TMI parade? It’s still going full speed ahead into the trainwreck of unwanted attention, get _out_ , Eridan.” 

Oh. 

Suddenly you’re flushing, every inch of skin tingling. 

“…you mean you want—“ you swallow hard around the words stuck in your throat that stubbornly refuse to be said. “Really? Wow.” Karkat has folded himself into a compact ball, pressed hard against the side of the couch. It’s kinda sad, really, except you’re curious and a little thrilled. You’ve always been pretty confident you’re hot, if nothing else because that’s one thing no one’s ever been able to rebuke, but that’s a bit different from someone asking you to leave a block because they want to… _wow_. “I might be legit swooning here.” 

“What festering part of _out_ don’t you fucking understand, you brineslurping little _shit_?” 

You consider walking out. That’s pretty much what any reasonable troll would do, with a sizable adult threatening to go ferally sexual on them. …well, you’ve never been the most reasonable troll in the history of the world and Karkat’s so fucking hot in ways you’ve never noticed before, and is this really that big of a stretch, after you spent perigees having roundabout cybersex every other night? It’s not like you’re proposing a quadrant or anything. It’s just… you’re so fucking curious about the whole thing and when’s the next time you’re gonna have a fucking adult you trust not to gut you and eat your entrails willing to touch you like that? 

A voice, which sounds remarkably like Agness, lets you know this is a terrible idea. 

Well, the whole point of having a moirail is needing someone to talk about your poor life choices and you will damn well make sure you have lots and lots to talk about with Agness. You sit up, inching your way closer to Karkat as you grin. 

“The part where I’d want to leave?” You hope to god that purring undertone came out as sultry and not fucking stupid. 

“Please tell me,” Karkat says, slow and measured, pressing his face into his hands and stubbornly refusing to look at you, “that you’re not hitting on me and trying to rope me into a quadrant, because I might seriously break your neck and shove your bloodied horns up your fucking nook, Eridan.” 

“…not unless you’ve got this burning red crush on me you’ve constantly suppressed for the past five sweeps or so, in which case I’d be willing to negotiate something,” you grin a little when he snorts despite himself, “I’m just offering to let you fuck me.” 

The block is eerily quiet in the wake of those words, but you’re too fucking proud of yourself for having said them out loud that you can’t even think of anything else. 

“What.” 

“Well, you want to, right?” You make yourself sound pragmatic, assuming the same tone as when you’re trying to make him see things the way you do, when it comes to his ridiculous theories about characters in your favorite shows. “And I’m not really opposed to the idea. I mean, what’s a friendly fuck between friendly friends.” 

“You sure you don’t wanna cram the word friend one more time into that sentence?” Karkat gives you a deadeye stare, but you get the feeling he’s just procrastinating having to talk about this. Considering talking about this might get you laid, you give him a grin in reply. “Don’t fucking answer that, god. Just… get out.” 

“Why?” You shift closer to him, not about to give up without a fight. “You want to and I think I kinda wand you to, what’s the big deal?” 

“What’s the—are you out of your fucking mind?” Karkat snarls at you, uncoiling just enough to be threatening again, but for once you’re not quite scared. “I’m a fucking _mutant_ , Eridan.” 

“Yeah, I kinda noticed when you melted into a mountain of cherry red goo,” you arch an eyebrow at him. “So?” You rest an arm on the back of the couch, not quite cornering Karkat in place. “What, are you scared I’ll be mad because you’re a lying liar who lies and your bulge’s not actually six inches long and three ‘round?” 

“Please stop saying bulge,” Karkat splutters after a moment, skin glowing red in a strangely adorable way. 

You look at him right in the eye and grin. 

“ _Bulge_.” 

“I swear to—“ 

“Okay, I get it, you’re an explosive cocktail of horny hormones, and you’re gonna be like that for the rest of the perigee at least, but c’mon. Tell me you weren’t thinking about jumping my bones when you got here. Really? You were totally thinking about it, you were checking out my ass because my ass is made of beautiful.” 

Karkat looks like he wants to say something, then thinks better of it because he scowls, running a hand nervously over his hair. 

“I _thought_ about it,” he says, bitterness thick enough you can taste it, “and then I’d remember that’d involve you knowing that I’m this… _thing_.” 

“Kar. Karkat. Shut the fuck up, I don’t care if you bleed rainbows that taste of chocolate, okay? I spent a week losing my shit at my moirail over this. I ran out of fucks to give because I flipped them all out already. I’m not gonna cull you, and I’m surprisingly okay with your mutant junk getting all over my non-mutant junk.” You take a deep breath, trying to bleed some actual bravery into your veins as you swallow hard and shove your way into his lap. Karkat makes a sound that makes everything between your legs twitch interestedly. “Do you want to fuck me or not?” 

“This is a fucking terrible idea,” he says, but he’s got his hands on your waist, shifting you over to a better place. “And we still need to talk shit out.” 

“Sure,” you grin, shivering because his hands are so fucking _big_ , holy shit, “we’ll talk later.” 

“And—“ 

“Now you’re just winding me up so I’ll shut you up with a kiss, aren’t you, you sappy sod?” You grin as he splutters and you summarily decide that a spluttering Karkat is the best kind of Karkat ever, except possibly the naked one. “I just might, you know, if you don’t stop the fucking ram—“ 

The clatter of teeth is a little awkward, but since you moan, the moment Karkat shoves his mouth onto yours, it’s like a switch in his head flipped. You’re pretty okay with that, because you can feel the rush of pheromones, it’s like slamming into a fucking _wall_. All your schoolfeeding modules said that was normal. If you were an adult, you’d be releasing matching ones just to ensure both of you got into the right mood for things to happen. You don’t think Karkat needs any help getting into the mood, though, not with the way he’s shoved a hand inside the back of your pants – not that you blame him, though, your ass _is_ made of beautiful, it’s understandable – and the other one is trying to shove the shirt above your head. What schoolfeeding never told you is that your skull would feel like it’s boiling, or that your entire skin would be breaking in constant waves of goosebumps and that your groin would be a leaky, desperate mess just from that. You lose time, caught up in that maddening smell and the feeling of Karkat’s hands on your skin, because when you get a hold of yourself your clothes are nowhere to be found, you’re lying on the couch as long as you are and there’s something wet and hot and _big_ squirming between your legs. 

The world seems to be melting at the edges, but you don’t really care, because your head is full of wool and your blood is rushing in your veins and all you want is make the feelings not stop. You chirr helplessly when Karkat’s arms wrap around you, tucking you against his body as the tip of his bulge squirms up against the lips of your nook. You don’t know what you were expecting, really, but it’s certainly nothing like your fingers. 

You tilt your head back, arching your spine and sliding your knees wider apart as his bulge coils on itself and pushes up into you, like a drill that spreads you impossibly open. You’re keening helplessly as your nook pulses in time with your heartbeat, a hurried drumming in your chest. The world is made of color and sound and scent and sensation, and none of it fits together like it should. You slide your arms around Karkat’s neck, trying to get some kind of leverage while he slowly makes you lose your mind. You dig your claws into his hair and he purrs loudly, vibrations traveling down his chest and pressing into yours. It feels like forever before he stops, shaking ever so slightly. The lips of your nook feel hot and uncomfortably tight, and all of you is tender like an exposed nerve, stuffed full and at his mercy. He stays still a long time, long enough for you to stretch and curl your toes a few times, as if that could distract you from the fact you’re full, fuller than you’ve ever been, fuller than it even seemed possible. But the longer Karkat stays still, the longer you start taking conscious note of every inch of skin, awareness piercing through the fog of lust and pheromones that have your senses out of control. It’s not pain, not yet. It’s that half step before pain, that unspoken limit that need to be relieved or pushed past, and that, you realize, is quickly becoming your undoing. 

“That,” you say, when you’re done waiting for Karkat to do something other than shiver and pant against your neck, trembling all the way to the bone, “is not six inches.” 

He laughs, a sudden bark that nearly covers up the sound you make, as his bulge twitches inside you. You make it again, a cry of sheer desperate surrender, when he starts lashing inside you. Or trying to, at least. You can feel the muscles throb with the effort, unused to the strain. The clusters of nerve endings inside your nook send conflicting pulses of pleasure and pain up your spine, overstimulated and confused. You remember your bulge only because the orgasm takes you by surprise, entire body clenching, and it’s like a cramp, except your bulge lashes out and leaks the empty, translucent fluid that will one day serve as conduit for your genetic material. Karkat makes a strangled sound at the feeling of wetness spreading between you, and you sob in the back of your throat because it makes his bulge shift harder inside you. 

A hand tilts your hips up, shifting the angle, and you dissolve into and incoherent mess of gasping and keening in turns, because he’s releasing inside you and you never thought you could actually _feel_ it. You’re not an adult, your body hasn’t finished developing like it should, and that means there’s literally nowhere for Karkat’s genetic material to go. If you were an adult, your seedflap would dilate and open up for him to leave it in your gene bladder, where it’d mix with your own material and allow you to then fill up a pail. But the organs just _aren’t there_ yet, and you dig your claws into the couch as your nook swells with the added pressure. You chirr again, and Karkat chirrs back at you, and the air is so fucking thick with pheromones you swear you’ll choke on it. 

He pulls out almost abruptly, spent, and your body shakes with another orgasm just from the fact you’re _empty_. You can feel his genetic material rushing out of you, pushed by the restless clenching of your muscles. Your entire being aches and it feels like every bone has been replaced by foam, leaving you sprawled on the couch like a heap of rioting nerves that still can’t decide what to process first. You look up, a little dazed, and find Karkat leaning against the backrest of the couch, hair pressed to his forehead by sweat and arms hanging off his body. You concede to yourself that he looks fucking beautiful and if you could, you’d sit up just to kiss the stupid moron breathless. 

“Now this,” he says, between gulps of air, lips tilted into a wry smile, “this I ain’t cleaning up.” 

You laugh, even though laughing hurts, and spread your arms invitingly. 

“We’ll set the couch on fire if you want,” you slur around your vowels, accent thick, and purr in the back of your throat when he lets himself fall onto you. “So no one has to clean up.” 

“Good,” Karkat mutters, shifting to find his place between your limbs, “good.” 

He’s asleep before you can come up with another reply. 

  


* * *

  


caligulasAquarium [CA] began trolling immiscibleAeon [IA]

CA: so  
CA: i did a thing  
IA: oh god.  
IA: am i gonna yell at you for it?  
CA: maybe?  
IA: hang on, i need to put the needlez away.  
CA: right  
CA: uh  
CA: i just  
CA: had amazin sex wwith my best friend?  
IA: what.  
IA: wait.  
IA: rewind.  
IA: izn't your best friend the mutant guy who just molted into a handbazket of holy zhit what the fuck are we even gonna do now?  
CA: kinda yeah  
IA: ...  
IA: that'z it.  
IA: i need to go knit myzelf a zweater now.  
CA: ag?  
IA: a zweater for each day of the fucking week.  
CA: are you mad?

immiscibleAeon [IA] is now an idle troll!

immiscibleAeon [IA] is now no longer idle!

CA: ag?  
CA: are you gonna dump me for this?  
IA: no.  
CA: ah  
IA: but you're gonna buy me zomething really, really nize.  
IA: really, really expenzive, too.  
CA: uh, wwhy?  
IA: becauze i didn't dump you for thiz.  
CA: oh  
CA: right  
CA: so  
CA: i wwas thinkin  
IA: ztop.  
CA: eh?  
IA: think real hard if i'm gonna like what you're gonna zay next.  
IA: becauze if i don't, i'm not going to dump you.  
CA: oh good  
IA: i'm juzt gonna ztab you in the eye.  
CA: uh  
CA: maybe  
CA: ill tell you later?  
IA: you do that.  
CA: um

immiscibleAeon [IA] ceased trolling caligulasAquarium [CA]

  


* * *

  


Turns out hunting lusii after having your nook fucked into oblivion isn’t exactly the best of ideas. You’re positively miserable by the time you’re back to your hive, having fulfilled your quota for the night. Your lusus makes quiet cooing sounds as you spend all the ride home sprawled on his back. You want a shower and then maybe sprawling on a plush surface and not move for the rest of the night. Maybe eat. That’s all. You land on the sand on your feet and decide you should have let your lusus lower you to the ground instead of leaping off his side as usual. Your insides twitch and throb as you take a moment to regain your balance. 

When you started hunting lusii for Feferi, you did it because she was your moirail and it was supposed to be some kind of dashing thing. So you went out there wearing a cape and practiced dismounting like the heroes in your favorite movies. These days you do it because it’s your fucking job, a chore you took upon yourself out of spite after you broke up with her and which you refuse to give up now, because the future Empress will have many things to say about you, but not that you’re a quitter. 

You tug at your scarf, getting it to settle back in place again, before you start shuffling back inside. 

“You’re gonna get another fucking vase to the head if you don’t stop lurking about,” you say, slowly making your way to the food preparation block. “I’m skittish, if you haven’t noticed. Startle easily.” 

“Hn,” Karkat says, still somewhat looming in the shadows, and the fact that he’s that much bigger than you makes it actual looming and not just glorified sulking. “You left.” 

“I left?” You squint at him a little, hands busy trying to force your caffeinated beverage dispenser to work. “Of course I fucking left, I—“ It dawns on you that Karkat might be a little upset about waking up in a puddle of his own slurry, alone. “Oh. _Oh_ , I didn’t. I didn’t leave- _leave_ , you know? I have a job. Always up and running at the crack of dusk, it’s a fucking pain in the ass.” You pause and give him a cautious look. “You’re not mad, are you?” 

There’s a moment of silence, there, and you could swear there’s something hanging above you both, shapeless and unknown. And then the moment passes and Karkat snorts, sliding onto a stool and leaning on the counter. 

“Won’t be if you feed me,” he says, with an air of mock magnanimousness that makes you grin, because that means you’ve yet to fuck up this friendship too. 

“Karkat Vantas, everyone,” you snort, turning to an invisible audience, “he’ll fucking molt on my couch, but he won’t look through my goddamn thermal hull and feed himself.” 

“You wanted to be a host, didn’t you?” Karkat smirks, resting his chin on his hand, “so be a fucking host.” 

“ _Weh_.” 

“I will fucking break your neck if you make that sound again,” Karkat glares, pointing a claw at you. 

You turn around to face him, leaning against the counter and very pointedly roll your eyes. 

“ ** _Wweh_**.” 

“Goddammit, Eridan!” 

But he’s laughing, and so are you. Laughing is okay, because that means shit won’t get weird, after yesterday, and that’s all you want. You won’t admit you woke up sore and terrified, with most of Karkat’s bulk pressing you down, and wondered if you’d managed to ruin your friendship by being a dumb horny moron. Like always, Karkat seems to be willing to not make a fuss out of things if you won’t, and then everything can go back to normal so long as you don’t have to sit down and actually talk about whatever will happen with his… condition. 

You force yourself to stop thinking about it and go dig into your thermal hull for something to eat. You get the feeling Karkat likes it when you cook for him, and you’re not one to avoid doing things that’ll get you praise. You start setting up things on the counter, relishing in the strangely comfortable sound. You wonder if it’s a normal thing, though, between friends. If Karkat spends days with his other friends, hanging out and having fun. Of course, with his… condition, maybe he wouldn’t. Maybe he’s like you, keeping things strictly text only. It did take you a really long time to convince him he’d be safe with you, after all. You decide you like the idea of Karkat not having done this kind of friendship thing with anyone else, because it makes your friendship even more special and you’re all about having the most special things. 

“So,” Karkat says after a moment, resting his chin on his folded arms as he watches you move around, “you’ve got a moirail now, huh?” 

“Oh?” You look over your shoulder and arch an eyebrow at him. “I thought we didn’t talk about our own quadrant gossip. You made it a rule and all.” 

“I think after I put my bulge so far up your nook it nearly came out your throat the fucking rules can stand to be bent a little,” he snaps, grinning when you chirr embarrassedly despite your best efforts, and you can feel your face heating up considerably. “Now tell me about your moirail, when did that happen?” 

“When you were molting, actually,” you shrug, and turn back to your pan and your spices and the fish you need to gut and filet. “I kinda royally lost my shit over it. I was actually hoping to get your advice on it, but then I went and blurted it out to her in the process and… well. She talked me out of staying here and then, well.” 

“Smart of her,” Karkat’s muses wryly. For a moment you think he’ll ask if you told her about his blood, and if the conversation will then spiral into unwanted territory, but then he just sighs. “So how did you met her?” 

You pause, knife hovering above the fish. 

“Oh. Uh.” 

“…do I even want to know?” And Karkat’s voice is that weird long suffering tone that you’ve come to associate with him that makes you blush harder for reasons entirely unrelated to anything below your waist. 

“Well, er,” you focus on cutting up the fish and letting the words flow as they will, instead, so maybe you’ll get through this conversation without losing a finger. “You know that unsavory job I have.” 

“The one you never want to fucking talk about, yeah.” 

You make an incision along the belly of the fish, careful to keep your hand steady. 

“It… uh. It kind of involves hunting lusii.” 

You study the guts as you pull them out, resolutely refusing to turn around and see the expression on Karkat’s face. 

“…what.” 

“So I was having a shitty hunt, hadn’t got anything in, ah, hours,” you say, picking out the liver and popping it right into your mouth, because it’s always the best part, and then set the rest of the guts aside. “I was all the way up shore, near the southern capital, and I sorta just… ran into Ag? She’s a tealblood so it was a long shot but I was tired and cranky, and some tealbloods have pretty big lusii anyway, so I followed her home.” 

“ _What_.” 

“Yeah,” you shrug, still not looking at Karkat, and dip the blade behind the gills, to cut out the head. Normally you’d leave it and eat the whole thing as is, but Karkat is a landdweller and landdwellers are fucking picky about fish. “So I do the whole looming thing, right? Demand to see her lusus, Ahab’s at the ready and all.” You snort as you flip the fish and make a matching cut on the other side, then reach to twist the head off. “Joke’s on me, ‘cause her lusus is pretty fucking tiny. Like, stupidly so. I didn’t kill it, _obviously_.” 

“Obviously,” Karkat echoes, and you finally risk a look over your shoulder to see him staring at you like he doesn’t know if he wants to punch you or just bang his head on the counter. “ _What the fuck_ , Eridan?” 

“It was awkward,” you say, shrugging again as you throw the head into the same pile as the guts and flip the fish again to filet it. “Anyway, dawn caught me there, so I… invited myself in?” 

“Oh my _god_.” 

“To be fair,” you point at Karkat with the knife, arching both eyebrows, “she was a really good sport about the good thing.” 

“…I haven’t even met her and I already want to write her a formal letter of apology, _holy shit_.” 

“Please,” you scoff, turning back and sticking the knife into the fish again, “I already made it up to her.” 

“ ** _How_** ,” Karkat demands, glowering. “Because if you say ‘I didn’t cull her’, I swear to fucking god I will kick you so hard your goddamn bulge will fall off and rot.” 

“Of course not, you fucking jerk, who the hell do you take me for?” You give him a dark look, and put the filet aside as you turn the fish a bit more forcefully than necessary. 

“Yourself,” Karkat deadpans, and it takes everything you have not to throw the knife at his head. 

“ _Rude_ ,” you snap, making sure to roll your eyes with flourish. “I bought her yarn, okay?” 

“Yarn.” 

“She likes to knit,” you say, with your snottiest tone. 

“Fuck,” Karkat runs a hand through his hair, “I think I’m buying her a box of chocolates too.” 

“What, why?” You blink, head tilted to the side. Karkat just stares at you a bit more. You shrug. “Anyway, you’d have better luck giving her needles. She likes those better.” 

“I’m surprised she took you as a moirail instead of a fucking personal pincushion,” Karkat snorts, rubbing his face with a hand. “Holy shit.” 

There’s another moment, you can feel it. Another chance for things to veer into unpleasantness. You can tell from the tilt of Karkat’s lips and the way his eyes are narrowed. You swallow hard. 

“You say that like they’re mutually exclusive,” you mutter, sullen and suddenly hunched over, “she has needles the size of my fucking forearm, Kar.” 

The moment passes, again. 

“Yeah? I have something the size of your fucking forearm too.” 

You throw the fish spine at his head, squeaking self-consciously, and marvel to yourself that he might be the best friend you'll ever have. 

  


* * *

  


Nights pass without incident, as you spend them watching movies and teaching Karkat how to spear from the shore. You chose the dates specifically because it’s salmon season and there’s thousands of them rushing past your island on their way to the mainland. You laugh until you cry after you convince Karkat to eat a liver and he spends two hours bent over the load gaper, puking his innards out. And when Karkat goes quiet after a good laugh, eyes darkening slightly, you drape yourself on his lap and let him fuck you for the sake of procrastinating the inevitable. As the nights pass, you can tell the hormones are receding and he’s more in control of himself. Soon, it won’t be enough to just leer at him to get him wet and going, and you’ll have to actually _deal_ with things. The more you think about it, the more you cling to him, because he’ll have to leave eventually and face reality, and you can’t stand the thought of losing him. 

“Sooner or later,” he tells you one night, bulge coiled deep inside you and fingers gently tracing the outline of your gills, as you sprawl in his lap and try to force your legs to work and help you roll your hips against him, “we’ll have to talk about it.” 

Your body is not made to take his girth, but you don’t care because it wrecks you to the core and you think you might be getting addicted to it. You’ll miss it when he’s gone, like you’ll miss his laugh and his deluge of profanity and his eyes and his horns and the way he makes you feel like you’re not a fucking waste of space. He’s your _friend_ , the only one you’ve got, and you can’t stand the thought of a world without Karkat because it’d be just that much emptier because of it. 

Two weeks after the first night he fuck you into incoherency, you slide from under him and wince your way into the ablution trap. You wash yourself and stare at the mirror for a long, long time before you start getting yourself ready for the night. You’ve had an idea coiling in your pan for the past few nights, but it’s a gamble and you’re no Vriska. If it works, it’d save Karkat and give him protection not even the most zealous highbloods would dare try to go against. But you don’t really have that much leverage and if you fail, all it’ll do is put Karkat on the radar and get him culled all that quicker. You should talk about it, first, with him and with Agness, but at the same time, you don’t want to give him hope only to have to take it away. And he might not let you try, either, out of sheer fear or self-preservation or common fucking sense. 

But you were once the moirail of the future Empress. 

Her predecessor died when she hatched and her lusus chose her over her Ancestor, severing their psychic link. The entire Empire awaits with bated breath the day she molts into an adult and assumes her place at the top. The interregnum council still upholds the laws of the old Empress, and they expect Feferi to follow along tradition, like all her predecessors have done before her. But you know Feferi, for all you royally fucked up everything and haven’t talked to her in sweeps. Feferi will bring reform and change and she wouldn’t want someone like Karkat to die just because his blood is a little brighter than it should. You know she _wouldn’t_. 

Of course, it’s been three sweeps and she could have changed a lot in that time. She could have decided that the old ways were better, that culling doesn’t need to be redefined after all. She could be more like the Empress you wanted her to be, when you were six and dumb as a sack of bricks. 

You take your time combing your hair and putting on your rings, and then choose your best clothes, all sleek black and accents in violet. You step out into the shore and mount your lusus with your jaw firmly set, and head out to find something particularly big and valuable to kill, and decide to deliver it in person. It takes you the better part of the night to find the kraken, and then nearly an hour to shoot the thing into submission. It’s easily ten times the size of your hive, and as it falls, your lusus makes nervous sounds when you order it to follow it on its slow descend into the depths. You keep thinking you could run away, up until the point you see her, all hair and limbs and gorgeous things that, despite it all, still make your chest ache and eyes threaten to fill up with tears. 

“Eridan,” she says, voice that beautiful tone that only the ocean can give her, floating at a cautious distance. 

You feel your gills swell at your sides as you bow your head. 

“My Empress.” 

  


* * *

  


carcinoGeneticist [CG] began trolling immiscibleAeon [IA]

CG: ER, HELLO.  
IA: let me guezz.  
IA: you found out who hiz ex iz and you want to punch him in the faze.  
CG: OH MY FUCKING GOD, YES.  
IA: i know.  
CG: CAN YOU BELIEVE THE FESTERING BAG OF PUSTULOUS BULGES NEVER FUCKING TOLD ME?  
IA: i can.  
IA: for what'z worth, punch him in the faze.  
IA: it'll make you feel better.  
CG: I THINK I FUCKING WILL, THANK YOU.  
IA: juzt don't break hiz neck.  
IA: 'cauze then i'm entitled to ztabbing your eyez out.  
CG: ...AND SUDDENLY THE FUCKING TERRIFYING BIT BECOMES OBVIOUS  
IA: he zaid i'm fucking terrifying?  
CG: THE SHUDDER DID.  
IA: heh.  
CG: SO I SUPPOSE THIS IS THE CLICHED PART WHERE WE INTRODUCE OURSELVES?  
CG: I ALSO HEAR YOU KINDA SAVED MY ASS, TOO.  
IA: nah.  
IA: i'm pretty zure it waz juzt a zircumztantial thing.  
IA: it'z not like i waz trying to, or anything.  
CG: WOW, WAY TO MAKE SOMEONE FEEL FUCKING SPECIAL.  
IA: ...do you really want me to anzwer that?  
CG: OKAY NO.  
CG: FINE.  
CG: NAME'S VANTAS.  
CG: KARKAT VANTAS.  
CG: THANKS FOR NOT TALKING ERIDAN INTO CULLING MY MUTANT ASS, I GUESS.  
IA: agness syzygy.  
IA: no need to read it like a bad troll jamez bond imprezzion.  
IA: alzo, no big deal.  
IA: i'm not really into fighting lozing battles.  
CG: I COULD SAY SOMETHING ABOUT THAT, CONSIDERING WHO'S YOUR MOIRAIL.  
CG: BUT THEN I REMEMBER I'M FUCKING THAT, AND IT'S TOO GODDAMN EARLY TO SHOOT MYSELF IN THE FOOT.  
IA: indeed.  
IA: congratulationz on the matezpritzhip too, i guezz.  
CG: OH. THAT'S NOT. WHAT THIS IS.  
CG: LIKE AT ALL.  
CG: WE'RE JUST FRIENDS.  
CG: WHO FEEL ON OCCASION THE NEED TO FUCK LIKE DERANGED IDIOTS, BUT THAT'S ABOUT IT.  
IA: ...


End file.
